


A Gotham Love Story

by orphan_account



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Gotham
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-26
Updated: 2013-02-26
Packaged: 2017-12-03 16:35:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/700393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Doctor Harleen Quinzel is entranced by the psychotic Joker, who only cares for himself. The Joker twists Harleen's mind and creates a new persona for her, a new life as Harley Quinn. Harley is tormented by this monster and believes she can never leave. Can Poison Ivy save her from the evil Joker, and better yet, can she save Harley from herself?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Gotham Love Story

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Harley/Ivy fanfiction and really my first ever fanfiction I've actually published semi-seriously. Some feedback would be really awesome!

Have you ever gotten lost into a deep web of thoughts and then thought a thought that should never have ever been thought? This thought was horrible, I presume, and you never wanted to think this thought again and you had no intentions of every acting upon this thought and wanted this thought to go away and leave you alone. This thought, you knew through rational thinking and long sleepless nights, was a thought that should be buried and burnt and destroyed because it was so vile that it had no right to live in the same space as the rest of your well thought out thoughts. Have you ever thought a thought like this? I have before, and that was the biggest mistake of my entire life. 

He was just laying there, the darkness enveloping him like how an ocean wave would hug a small child who forgot how to swim. He was drowning, his emotions being crushed by these waves. His mind was slowly drifting out farther into the sea, and then being buried into the deep abyss by these harsh storms and he would wake up one day on the shore of a beautiful island dazed and confused, not realizing what really happened. Not realizing that the islanders perceived him as a monster that needed harsh punishment and this so called “justice”. 

His name was The Joker, and he had puzzled me at first, he had fascinated me by his wide grin and the gloomy look in his eye. Even in such hard and difficult times the man could still smile, a skill that I wish I had. In our first sessions I was told to be wary of him by other psychiatrists, and so I was. I carried a knife on me for every meeting, letting him be aware that I was armed. Now, I knew that he could always grab the knife away from me and cut his way out, he knew that too, but he always lay down on the old leather couch with one too many cracks into it and told me his story. He told me that he had an abusive childhood, that it was a never ending nightmare and that he didn’t know if it was ever possible for him to smile again. 

During one session he told me one of the most horrible stories that I have ever heard to date. The story of how his face was scarred into happiness. The clown had confided in his sickly mother who had only few weeks left on this earth, he had told her he was afraid for his life and worried that he’d never be able to laugh or smile again after she...passed. As timing is always perfect, the poor young Joker’s abusive father who had had one too many overheard this conversation. He dragged The Joker over into the living room by his long dark locks as the dying mother cried out for her son’s safety. This evil man had reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small pocket knife. “You want to smile, son?” He had asked the child, who was breaking into tears beneath his father. The drunken bastard pulled on his hair and asked him again. 

“Daddy, stop it.” 

His father had then cut from one end of the child’s mouth up and did the same to the other end, leaving a permanent and unforgiving smile. The blood rushed out from his face and he cried and screamed even harder, kicking for freedom. 

“Laugh you stupid bastard! C’mon! Hahaha, hahaha, HA! HA! HA!” His father had kicked him in the ribs until The Joker would laugh, and laugh, and laugh until he couldn’t feel anything at all. “See kid, your mommy may be dying but you can still laugh. I’m so proud of you my little clown.”

That night The Joker’s father had went into the mother’s room and beat her mercilessly. He had beaten her until her pulse stood still. 

Sessions had continued regularly and I began to think. Now, as I may have mentioned earlier, I had thought a thought that was the biggest mistake of my life. We were four months into treatment and I had looked deep into The Joker’s pale green eyes and thought for a split second, I love this man. 

I love him and I want to be with him even if he is sick, even if he has killed people and ruined their lives. Everyone knew the mean and crazy Joker, but I knew a different side. This side was loving, it was caring and kind and I just wanted to stay by his side forever. 

That one thought had set me over the edge. I began to question myself, and my morals were slowly crumbling and soon enough I would be a crazy sociopath just like him. 

I had put weeks of thought into this one thought I had had. Then one day, during the middle of our session as The Joker was laying on the couch telling me the ever so heroic story of how he saved a Pomeranian from this nasty fellow by stabbing him in the throat, I decided to tell him about that one thought. Another mistake of mine.

“Joker, I have something to confess.” I told him, looking at him.

“Oooh, a confession from the ever so wondrous Doctor Harleen Quinzel. Do tell, darling.” He had sat up and stared into my eyes, sending a cold shiver down my spine. I held this gaze, entranced by his beauty. 

“I, as a doctor, must stay completely professional and I, well, I don’t know how to say this...but I believe I have grown...fond of you...” I breathed out, completely and utterly proud of my ability to share my feelings with this man whom I was sure had no interest in me at all. As I had said this his eyebrows raised and there was a new twinkle in his eye, his smile had spread out even farther than usual.

“Why, Dr. Quinzel, why deary I am flattered,” he then burst out into a fit of laughter. “You have listened to me-actually listened to me, unlike all the other quacks around here. You treated me like a human when others treat me like garbage that a rat wouldn’t even touch. Now, here’s the real kicker, I’m quite fond of you, too, and I’ve been meaning to tell you for quite some time now. I’ve been afraid of what you’d say. Silly, isn’t it? Me, the clown prince of crime, afraid of rejection by my doctor.”

This burst of information seemed too unreal and I just sat there dumbfounded. My mouth hung open and I had a blank stare in my eye.

“I...I...What now?” I asked him, not quite knowing what to say or do or well...I was just so confused.

“What now? Well, we escape.” He told me, grinning widely and I responded with my own maniacal smile. 

After a few moments I got up and grasped the knife that I had always brought to sessions in my right hand and opened the door of my office. Two guards were standing in front of the door. I slashed the first one’s throat and stabbed the other in the heart. I could hear the Joker giggling behind me, I could tell that he was proud of me. I was happy that he was proud. 

More guards were soon to come so we quickly ran out towards a laundry room that was only a few doors away from my office. I grabbed a hoodie and a pair of jeans from one of the dryers and threw them at The Joker. He had quickly put them both on and we both made a break for it.

Guards were shouting behind us, they must have found the dead bodies, but it was too late. We were out the doors and running towards the gates of Arkham Asylum at full speed. 

After a while of running we were officially out. The Joker was out, breathless and beautiful as he stared at me laughing.

“Why Harley, I didn’t know you had it in you.” He said, referring to the murder of the guards.

“Anything for you, puddin’.” I responded with.

This was the birth of a new me.

A birth of Harley Quinn.


End file.
